


Wedding Bells

by Marvel_ousimagines



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 08:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvel_ousimagines/pseuds/Marvel_ousimagines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of cute drabbles and one-shots leading up to your wedding to Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wedding Bells

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that, as this was a request I got on my [ tumblr ](http://marvel-ousimagines.tumblr.com/), the reader in this imagine is a time-travelling mutant.

Upon waking, you stirred around groggily in bed, perplexed to find it devoid of anyone other than yourself before remembering with a start: this was the morning of your wedding and, with respect to tradition, you and Steve had spent the last week apart from one another, enjoying the benefits of an unwed life before committing to one another. However, judging by how each new lonely morning was as startling and painful as the last, you had been committed to him long before any vows were exchanged.

Steve, in his typical romantic fashion, had given Natasha tokens of his affection to place on your bedside table each morning, each more loving, or “cheesy” as Nat had called them, than the last. On the first day, he had requested your maid of honor place a letter reading “A perfect cup of coffee for my perfect bride-to-be”  next to your favorite morning pick-me-up; however, while this and his other notes were sweet and, admittedly, made you grin like the cheshire cat, they could never top the gift left for you on this last day.

Sitting by your bedside, partially obscured by your disarrayed comforter and pillows, lay an acrylic rendition of the photo the two of you had taken on your first date. He had captured everything in impeccable detail: the pink and blue hues of the ferris wheel’s chipping paint, the way his eyes lingered on the bright lights of the city below rather than the camera you were secretly holding, the curve and bend of your smile as you laughed at something he said just as the camera shuttered, the little lipstick stain you had accidently left on his cheek as you greeted him, you hugging the fluffy red stuffed elephant he had won for you at darts. It must have taken him months to finish it.

“Oh Stevie,” you cooed as you pressed his wonderful painting to your chest and hugged it tight, beaming brightly even though you would rather be hugging him.

 


End file.
